Cincinnati Shakespeare Festival has been broadening their interpretation of being a Shakespearean company in contemporary times. Their latest production, the world premiere of "A Chance of Lightning" by Joseph McDonough, picks up on the concept of a playwright creating a script for a resident acting troupe. The first commission in CSF's new studio program, "A Chance of Lightning" was written for this cast, who helped to develop the piece under artistic director Jasson Minadakis. The reward lies in the opportunity to create -- fully funded and therefore free of financial concerns. McDonough's play doesn't feel finished yet, although the performance is as dedicated and developed as for an established play.
Set in a barn in the middle of nowhere, "Lightning" concerns a kidnapped doctor and his date, a medical intern. He's a smart man who balances science with comic book fantasy, his opening monologue explains. McDonough reveals details gradually, until we piece together that Dr. Kaufmann created a deadly virus that Zachary, a cult-leader type, is determined to acquire and unleash. His dimwitted henchmen are the jittery neo-Nazi thief Jimmy; stuttering, timid Randy; and born-again Angel, who looks for Jesus's face in puffs of cigarette smoke and on toast.
Will Zachary find the virus? Will he kill Iona, the intern, if he doesn't? Will Dr. Kaufmann figure out a way to escape first? Strung together, these questions build suspense that is enhanced by the dark, remote setting. No lightning effects shimmer behind the wooden slats of the barn (designed by Todd Edwards), but thunder rumbles threateningly throughout the play (including when God is mentioned).
For most of the first act, "A Chance of Lightning" seems to be a science thriller with an apocalyptic theme and a subplot about bigotry. Occasionally, the interactions and dialogue spark laughter. Elements are permutations of extreme news topics. Then a mail carrier slips into the barn, reciting code phrases from Dr. Seuss and worrying that his fitted shirt makes him look fat. He's really an undercover FBI agent. In this role, Brian Isaac Phillips unleashes a humor nearly as powerful as the killer virus, turning the play from ominous to ridiculous. Phillips takes goofiness seriously, making his comedy contagious. And the plot device of introducing this outsider so late in the play precipitates other unexpected revelations that snowball towards an ambiguous conclusion.
Jeremy Dubin plays Dr. Kaufmann as a distrusting researcher overwhelmed by his idealistic intention of creating a virus that would eradicate other viruses. Dubin is not limited by the ropes that bind his wrists to a chair, as the timing of his reactions express as much as his words. This is particularly true during his exchanges with Amy Hutchins. As Iona, she nervously hums annoying songs in a tight, high voice and appears to be both helpless and eager to assist. Nick Rose is the suave Zachary, a cool, devilish extremist in a linen suit. His character's manipulative charm and determination make a dangerous combination, although his chameleonic nature sheds to reveal a malevolent shell without a core.
Jeff Groh, Anne E. Schilling, and Giles Davies round out the cast as Jimmy, Angel, and Randy, respectively. They're the most idiosyncratic characters, delinquents painted with tics and not-quite-Quentin-Tarrantino stories.
A more pressing question than will the virus be released is why should we care what happens to these characters? If the play uses comic book archetypes, who's the hero? We don't know enough about the doctor to judge his intentions or potential. The romantic angle is of little consequence. Zachary is a chillingly creepy bad guy with no convincing argument to win our support. His henchmen and the FBI operative don't have much hope existing on their own. Aside from the plot issues, the primary thematic concern of biological terrorism becomes merely a device for the bad guys, as if it exists in their peculiar world alone (despite the real threat of the spreading West Nile virus and the continued presence and evolving story of HIV, twenty years after its identification).
If McDonough intends for "A Chance of Lightning" to be a thriller, the ridiculousness in act two doesn't serve his goal. However, if he's aiming for the far-fetched situations and two-dimensional characters of the comic book world that the doctor supposedly escapes to, somber realism gets in the way. The true impact of CSF's studio commission will be revealed by what McDonough chooses to do next with his script.